Page 40 of Sol
Maybe I didn’t have to leave Spain. Maybe I could stay in the same city as Trent. Maybe I could become his friend. Maybe the path to forgiveness was paved with a lot of sweat andtears.
I wanted to get to know the man when I’d only ever known theboy.
After a few minutes of breathing, his muscles relaxed and his color returned. We let go of each other’s hands. He went to get up, but I stopped him. “Stay withme.”
“Okay.”
We sat in the doorway watching the pedestrians. The mopeds kept coming. The scooters kept coming, but he seemed to get his thoughts undercontrol.
“You ready to go back?” Iasked.
“Yeah.”
“Where are youstaying?”
“Hostel CentralGranada.”
“That’s near my place. Come on. Let’s get youhome.”
“No. I’ll walk you.” Always a gentleman. Alwayscourteous.
I stood up, then extended my hand to help him up. But I didn’t let go of it once we started walking again. Several blocks up, after passing restaurants and bars just opening up for the night, we made it to my apartmentdoor.
“Meet you Friday totalk?”
“Sure.” For once, it didn’t feel like I was running away. “I’ll see you in class first,” I said, steppinginside.
He turned and left before the door wasshut.
Part of me wanted to run after him. To hold him all night long while he got out whatever demons were chasinghim.
I couldn’t do that, though. And I wondered if I evercould.
* * *
After Trent dropped me off,I ran up the stairs, got into my apartment, tore off my clothes, and paced,naked.
I saw tonight the damage the army inflicted on our veterans. Even ones like Trent, who physically was unharmed. The psychological scars cut deep. I’d work through those things with him, even if it charred me in theprocess.
And I couldn’t help but like him. Alot.
For now, I needed a shower, and time tothink.
Degan’s letter sat on the table, unopened. I didn’t know if I could ever get the nerve to open it. It just felt so final. Like I’d never be able to hear anything new from him again if I opened it. So I just let it sitthere.
Turning on the water, I waited for it to heat up. Maybe I needed more butane from thetío debutano.
Trent and I had a lot in common, and it wasn’t just my brother. He liked to watch me, and I liked being watched. Probably part of the reason why I enjoyed being a teacher—feeling the eyes of students on me. But when he watched me, it was special, the way his eyes lit up when he saw me. I could wear that as a garment. Clothe myself in his spirit and never let itgo.
I didn’t like beinghisteacher, though. And I was older than him, although he didn’t feel younger than me. His eyes had seen so much, and he was much older than the other students. Afghanistan maturedhim.
Stepping in the shower, the water massaged my shoulders, mytorso.
I almost felt the weight of him in my arms, remembering what it felt like to kiss him so long ago and how he felt the other day. He still smelled the same. He was sturdy, like he could pick up anything I put down, and could carry me away withhim.
Unbidden, Lulu’s words came back to me: never underestimate the inclination to bolt. That phrase suddenly hit me with truth bombclarity.
My inclination wasalwaystobolt.
